


Welcome To Applebee's!

by Slashy Goodness (allmadhere)



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-27
Updated: 2010-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmadhere/pseuds/Slashy%20Goodness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hello, I'm Pa-- oh, fuck, Pete! What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" Pete smiled at Patrick, higher above his eye level than normal because of the tall seat. Patrick scowled and stalked off. Pete watched his ass as he went. Next time he did Patrick's laundry for him, he'd have to try and get the pants just a touch smaller. And maybe he'd be able to get the shirts short enough to make Patrick flash a strip of that creamy pale skin of his. ... And now he was going to have to try very hard to think unsexy thoughts. Very hard indeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome To Applebee's!

**Author's Note:**

> Another from anon_lovefest on LJ from one of my favorite prompters ever. Cameos from Ashlee, Vicky-T, Suarez, Gabe, William, and Travie in order of appearance.
> 
> Prompt: "bb!Waiter!Patrick/pervy!Pete.  
> Patrick works at Applebee's (or some other restaurant/diner) and Pete gets all hot a bothered by the uniform (and purposely shrinks Patrick's pants show off his curvy hips and ass)."

"Hello and welcome to Applebee's! Just you tonight?" Pete nodded and flashed the hostess a cheesy smile, eyes twinkling. "Would you like to be seated at the bar or a table?"

"Actually, could you do me a favor and seat me in Patrick's section? I want to surprise him." She looked dubious and Pete flashed her another winning smile. She sort of grinned back and rolled her eyes, pushing her dyed red hair behind her shoulder before seating him at one of the tall, round tables close-ish to the bar. He could still watch any of the various sports or news networks (and he's got his eyes glued to the set with CNN) and get any and all drinks relatively quickly, thanks to Gabe and Suarez tending tonight.

"Hello, I'm Pa-- oh, fuck, Pete! What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" Pete smiled at Patrick, higher above his eye level than normal because of the tall seat. Patrick scowled and stalked off. Pete watched his ass as he went. Next time he did Patrick's laundry for him, he'd have to try and get the pants just a touch smaller. And maybe he'd be able to get the shirts short enough to make Patrick flash a strip of that creamy pale skin of his. ... And now he was going to have to try very hard to think unsexy thoughts. Very hard indeed.

Five minutes later, Patrick stalked back to Pete's table with his scowl still firmly in place. "Vicky says I have to serve you and I'm not crossing her so we're going to set some ground rules, got it?" Pete smiled innocently. He could totally behave. It was his dick, mouth, and hands that were the miscreants, honest. Completely outside his jurisdiction. "You will not grab my ass, make lewd comments, or do anything that will, in some way, get me fired. Got it? I'm not losing this job because you're a fucking perv."

"Then maybe you should stop cursing so much?" Pete suggested. William sniggered as he walked by carrying a tray ladened with appetizers and Patrick glared after him. Pete's smile was wider and perhaps a bit more mischievous by the time Patrick looked back.

"Pete, please, I beg of you. Don't get me fired. Please?" Patrick sighed and Pete relented just a little. It wouldn't do to get his singer and musical genius (and maybe crush) fired from the job that helped to pay his portion of the rent, now would it? How would they make beautiful music together otherwise? ... Heh heh, 'beautiful music'... Pete smirked, leered really, in Patrick's direction. Patrick, for his part, just rolled his eyes.

"Aren't you going to ask me what I want to drink, 'Trick?" Pete fluttered his eyelashes, well aware that the leer was still in place and he just looked like a creeper now.

"No, because you're just going to turn it into a load of innuendo and you always end up getting the same thing anyway." Patrick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. His shirt rode up just a touch, just enough for Pete to glimpse a sliver of skin, and he licked his lips. How Patrick didn't know how sexy he was drove Pete crazy, in more ways than one. "Look, I'll be back with your drink and put in your order, okay? You have money this time?"

"Of course, 'Tricky baby. You just sashay off and get me that margarita, sweet cheeks." Patrick looked like he might kill Pete in his sleep later or right here at the restaurant, job and band be damned, but he simple took a deep breath and headed over to give a grinning Gabe Pete's drink order. He came back quickly, dropped a root beer in front of Pete, and left without a word. Not that it mattered. Pete enjoyed his view of both his ass and CNN if he sat just right. Crap. Bathroom. Now. There were no cameras in there, right? There couldn't be if Gabe and William (and Travis, who he knew was cooking in the back) were working the same shift still.

Ten minutes later, he was settling back at his table as Patrick dropped a plate of cheese quesadillas in front of him. "You're my hero, 'Trick, did you know that?" Pete leaned over and pecked him lightly on the cheek, staying close even after his lips parted from Patrick's now blushing cheek. "You treat me too good, baby." Pete sat back in his seat, grinning wildly. Patrick just gave him a look, attempted to discretely adjust himself, though Pete saw and leered again. Patrick walked towards the back, waving a hand at Gabe in a signal that Pete knew meant he was taking a break. Pete just chewed at his quesadilla thoughtfully.

Five minutes and he'd borrow Gabe's key for the break room. He knew there were no cameras, thanks to semi-unspeakable tales from the same bartender. He'd surprise Patrick and ravish him like it was a romance novel. For now, though, he was going to enjoy these delicious quesadillas because no one liked congealed cheese. He'd come back and see about dessert.

Damn, did he fucking love Applebee's.


End file.
